


Wooden Tongue

by Inky_Scribbles



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Big family, Dick Grayson Can Talk To Animals, Dick Grayson Is A Metahuman, Elephants, Family, Gen, Haly's Circus, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I put the tags as gen becaus no one actually acts like a married couple here, It kind of got a little melancholic at the end there, John Grayson is a good bro, Short Stories, Zitka is a good friend, kind of, little snippets of Dick's life at the circus basically, no editing we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Scribbles/pseuds/Inky_Scribbles
Summary: Snippets of Dick's life at the circus with Zitka and his family, with a small twist thrown in.





	Wooden Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! School just started, which was why it took a while to get this all done, and while it's not the next in my Ace Dick stories, I did have quite a bit of fun with this.
> 
> Writing in the perspective of a kid with slowly growing age is really hard, especially if he's at least a little smarter than the average kid his age— which he is, according to Batman. But I do like this AU and I do like writing about Dick's time at the circus. I did a lot of research on travelling circuses that I couldn't really use in this because of Dick's age. His view is kind of skewed because of it, so not everything that I wanted to convey fit in, but I kind of like the way it turned out anyway.
> 
> Oh yeah, just FYI, Julie and Ms. Finnegan are the same person.
> 
> Anyway, that's it from me. I hope you enjoy!

Criss-crossed over the train car is the newly-painted patterns of an animal truck. It's the same size as all of the other cars on the circus train, but this one is made of metal instead.

Dick gets the feeling that this one is different for a special reason. He can't quite catch it, but he knows that there's something in there. Something quite small and afraid. Mum has been worrying about an afraid something the past few months, but she would never tell him what the afraid something was. Nor would any of the other adults.

That didn't stop Dick, though. John knows plenty of stuff. So Dick took his chances with John, because John usually answers his questions. John wants him to keep his education up, but Dick's never been to school, and probably never will, so what does it matter?

But John wouldn't answer his questions, either. Which is strange, but he did learn the meaning of "surprise" that day, at least. Dick prefers numbers to letters, but he does like knowing what the adults are talking about when they use complicated words. Aunt Karla sneaks him dried apple rings if she thinks he knows enough words.

Aunt Karla is with him now. Mum and Dad are out on "special business" now that they stopped off in Paris. Uncle Rick calls it a "hot date", but John says that they're just being silly, and really they're going out and doing romantic things. Like kissing. Dick's glad he doesn't have to come along for that. Either way, it means that Aunt Karla and Nani are babysitting— not that he's a baby.

As he looks up at the train car-that's-actually-a-lorry-container (and is it just him, or is the car a lot bigger than normal? Scary), he kind of wishes that at least John was here. John's not afraid of anything, and he knows a whole load of stuff. He'd probably want to investigate, not hang around out here, waiting. Waiting for what, he has no idea. He clutches Zitka closer in what he will not admit is fright. It's just a car. It's not that scary. He doesn't need John. John's busy, anyway (he's learning how to play the harmonica with Harry).

He focuses on the adults instead. "... It's an entire day early. John's the best with animals. What should we do?" Dick has learned that whenever the grown ups say "John", they really mean Dad.

The grown ups are grouped around the other side of trailer, huddled in the kind of way that means they're discussing secrets, or something that he probably shouldn't know. He leans a little closer.

Then comes the noise of disappointment that only adults can make, and he startles. John's made some pretty good impersonations of that sound, but Dick has never heard anyone but an adult get it quite right. He double checks, but no one has noticed him just yet. "We'll just have to hope that Julie knows what she's doing, especially if Kenneth is drunk out of his mind again." 

"I have a good mind to conk that man on the head sometimes," that's a Nani statement through and through, Dick knows that well. Nani likes to be tough when she's not in costume, so she says threats that she doesn't really mean. Or that's what Dad says, anyway.

There's a sigh. It's the kind of sigh Dick knows is tinged with Woodiness. He can almost feel the worry and frustration in the air, like a looming pulse of _danger, danger!_ Without saying anything. That's exactly what Wooden Tongue is, he knows. Senses, instincts that you feel and can see in the way someone moves, but not hear like with most languages. "We'll just have to improvise. We can't keep her in there the entire time he's away."

Somebody is locked in there? Is that the small scared person he can feel? Dick can empathise. He's small and scared most of the time, too. But if someone's locked in there, shouldn't they get that someone out? "We might have to." Regret.

They better regret that. Don't they know it's rude to keep people locked up like that? Dick takes a small step forwards. It doesn't matter what the grown ups think. If someone's scared and hurting in there, he's going to let them out. 

Quickly, while they're distracted, Dick squeezes Zitka's small elephant-foot and runs forward to unlock the trailer. Of course, the grown ups spot him almost immediately, but at least the latch is up. "Dick, no!" He shoves the door to the side with all of his four-year-old strength. It budges less than five centimetres.

Aunt Karla is not best happy. And Nani is making that face where she's pretending not to be angry. It only works on herself, if at all, really, because he can feel how upset she is from here. Whoops. He hadn't meant to make them angry. He just didn't like the idea of keeping someone scared locked up in a dark, scary trailer. Zitka is going to complain about how hard he's squeezing her foot later, but Dick thinks that she appreciates it right now. 

Before they can launch into any scoldings, (because he knows they will. They always do) he says, even as no words escape his lips, _they were scared_. He gets the urge to nibble on Zitka's ear, but stops before he can even open his mouth again. Responsible children don't eat their toys. John taught him that. _I'm sorry_.

And then they're interrupted yet again, but this time by a very small, very long nose. Dick recognises it. It's grey. _It's Zitka!_

_Zitka!_ Is the response, small, deep, and quiet.

Nani and Aunt Karla share a smile.

•••

_Did you get stuck up there?_ It's not said out loud. And it's not said in his head, either, really. It's just an impression, or an instinct. He knows it's a question, and it's the type of thing Zitka would ask, so he knows that's what she said.

_No!_ He says— well, it's not quite that he said it, but rather he responded in the same way she had asked.

_... Well, not at first, anyway._ He continues, just a tad sheepish, when Zitka's body tells him she's not impressed. Elephants have always been the easiest to read, because they are the most expressive. The horses and camels all seem a little grumpy anyway.

It's true, what he says. He hadn't been stuck. At first. It's just a tree, he had told himself at the time, and then climbed higher. He regrets it just a little now. It might rain soon, the horse-tail clouds from earlier have long disappeared, and the thicker, darker ones are hanging low, peering over his shoulder like Nani when she's on her stilts. At least he has Zitka with him.

_How do I get down?_ He asks, even though Zitka is an elephant, and elephants do not climb trees. Dad told him so. Although, Mum says that Dad doesn't always know what's best. And Mum knows a lot more about these things than Dad. 

As expected, Zitka seems to shrug, in her strange elephant way. Everything Zitka does is strange and elephant-like, which is why she's fun to be around. John is never elephant-like, but he is a lot of fun, too. He'd probably know how to get down.

Dick hums for a moment, tapping his chin the way Mum does when she's thinking really hard. _Maybe you could go get help?_ But no, that wouldn't work; Zitka isn't actually supposed to be outside of the animals' area, not really. The other elephants agreed not to tell, but the grown ups might figure it out anyway, especially if old drunk Kenneth has woken up already.

Zitka understands this too, because she shakes her head loftily. Not because she feels haughty or anything (and he would know if she was feeling something like that), but because that's just the way she is. She's lofty. Like most elephants are, but not as lofty as the others yet. He hopes he'll be lofty like an elephant one day. _So what do we do?_

_I don't know,_ she shrugs in the same way as before. It's not really a shrug, Dad says, more like the feeling of a shrug, but it looks like a shrug to Dick.

He looks back down at the tree. With the way the air feels (kind of humid and kind of thick) the rain will come quickly, and then it'll be too slippery to climb down. Mum and Dad never do shows on a wet trapeze. It's dangerous. And a wet tree can't be that different.

He double checks the way he came up, just to make sure he can't come down again. He has to be extra certain, because he might get scolded if there is any chance that he could do it himself. 

The nearest tree branch on his left is too far down, but if he was a little taller, he might be able to reach it. The one on his right is probably closer to the back of the tree than his right side, if he's being honest. If only he was a little taller, and a little braver. Like John. Or Dad. Or Mum, or Aunt Karla.

A gust of wind catches his woolly jumper and lifts it up a bit. He snatches it back. As bad as this situ... situation is, it would be worse if he lost his woolly jumper. Mum wouldn't be very happy, but Dad does like knitting. Uncle Rick says it's because Dad likes to think as he knits, but Dick secretly thinks it's because Dad just likes knitting.

It's cold all the way up here. He wants to go back to the trailer, with Zitka. He tells her that, but she's getting a little cold too, so she doesn't give a very clear answer. She probably wants to go home, too. The night must really be settling in. It's a shame he can't see the stars. Mum and Dad were teaching him about the stars, a couple of days ago. He should have brought a coat, but he didn't think he'd get stuck up here for too long.

He must have been here for quite a while. He's starting to feel really tired. Zitka is, too. She must be missing her bed. He feels bad. She could go to her bed, but she doesn't, because he can't. _You should go back,_ he says, but he knows his body-language is slurred from the cold and tense from the coming rain. 

_I'll get help,_ she nods, in her elephant way. Dick nods, but he's getting tired, (too tired to remember that they'll get in trouble for this later) and he kind of wants a small nap. It's cold, and it's late, and it's probably his bedtime soon, too. They have two shows tomorrow, and he's going to be in one, so he needs sleep. That's what Dad always says.

Zitka trundles away, the way she does when she's tired. She takes big steps, because she's an elephant, but it's still slow going. He knows he shouldn't, but he really just wants to nap a little. And then he does.

He wakes to Mum, with her sweet-smelling perfume that she takes from Nani, and her soft warmness. He tilts his head into her neck, listening to her heart as it beats in time to her footfalls. _Mama..._ he sighs.

"You've got to start using your words, Little Robin." She murmurs, quiet, because it is late. Dad says it's bad manners to wake someone when it's late. And when it's early, but he doesn't pay much attention to that one. "Zitka had to come get me because you wouldn't call for help." He's going to get in trouble for that tomorrow.

"Mhmm... Okay..."

She smiles. He can't see it, but he knows that she does. When Mum smiles, she smiles with her whole body. "Time to go to sleep now, Little Robin," she says, and tucks him in. When had they gotten to bed?

"Oh... 'Kay, Mama."

Her lips brush his forehead, and he feels warm.

•••

The sky is a pasty blue-pink, scattered with long, fluffy half-gray clouds and painted with all the colours of a summer evening. The air smells of barbecue and spun sugar, only a twinge of the bitter city-scent that radiates here.

He is sat comfortably in John's lap, fiddling with his hands and tugging at his fingers. John lets him, one eye on his book, the other on Dick.

Uncle Rick is watching the Kebabs on the small campfire they've made. He says it's a fine art, but Dick isn't so sure because he once saw Dad leave corn cobs alone on the fire the entire time and they came out fine. John says he likes to pretend to be busy. Dick secretly agrees.

"Well," he hears Dad coming out from between the trailers, "Samson says he's eating out with the Irelanders, Haly's got work— I did try to drag him away, but apparently it's super important," he makes a face and Dick laughs. Dad smiles. "Joey's introducing that new security guard to the other roustabouts. And Harry, Wilhelm, Jacques, the twins and Pedro are all going out for drinks. That just leaves us and the girls. They said they'd be back later with corn cobs a while ago."

"They'd better be quick, then! These are almost done." Uncle Rick waves one of the kebabs for emphasis, one end of his mouth quirked in an amused smile.

Dad laughs and settles down in the third deck chair. It's old, and creaks under his weight, but Dad settles himself without worry of it collapsing (Dick's seen it happen).

Dick settles too, going back to fiddling with John's fingers. And they sit like that for a while, Uncle Rick and Dad trading a few words every now and then, talking about random things that Dick doesn't really pay attention to. How the show went that evening, Pedro's twisted ankle from yesterday, something about Komala and Amir, the camels. The distant sound of a radio and what's probably Joey singing along, the neat line of trees dancing lightly in the breeze, and sizzling kebabs on a campfire. 

"Hey," said Dad. Dick wasn't sure who he was talking to at first, (downside of using words, in his opinion), but when he looks it's John he's looking at. "Which one are you reading?"

John drags himself from page... fifty four. Aunt Karla was teaching him about big numbers the other day. They come easier than words do. "The Watchmaker. It's good."

"Oh, that's one of my favourites." 

When Dick looks, John smiles, crow's feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "I think it's my second favourite so far,"

Dick winds back around to look at Dad. "'S it 'bout?"

"A watchmaker, of course!" Uncle Rick chuckles.

Dick huffs. "What does he do?"

Secretively, Uncle Rick leans over and whispers. "Believe it or not, he... makes watches."

Dick scowls. 

John wraps his hands around Dick's placatingly, burying his face in his hair. Dick's seen him do it enough times to know that he's hiding a smile. "I don't think he actually knows what he's talking about," John murmurs. "I'll read it to you later, how about that?"

Dick nods solemnly, like Mum does when she's in the middle of a very important adult-talk. "Will you play harmonica too?"

John huffs a laugh into Dick's ear. "I can play now, if you want. How about I teach you a few more notes?"

Dick agrees eagerly, and they settle down with John's harmonica, playing simple notes, Dick almost getting the hang of a short tune John devised. Time flies by, so it doesn't take long for Aunt Karla and Mum and Nani to get back, and they all eat kebabs and corn cobs for the rest of the evening.

•••

He's knocked completely from his sleep at the bursting of a door. It crashes against the wall of their trailer and a woman is set starkly against the dull of the door in her brightly-coloured clothes. Her face is anything but bright, though. Dick recognises her as Ms. Finnegan, who ran away from her husband in Ireland to care for the animals in the circus with old drunk Kenneth. She's very nice, usually, but doesn't she know it's rude to wake people up in the late night?

"John!" She calls, and her voice is all scrunched up and tense, kind of like her face. So that's where she gets all the wrinkles from. "It's Komala!"

What's up with Komala? Dick knows that she's been pulled from shows for ages, and she's been getting a lot fatter for it (whenever he mentions this to Ms. Finnegan, she just laughs and says she's growing a new friend in there. Dick has no idea what that means). Maybe she's finally gotten so fat that she can't get up anymore? Is that even possible?

Dad immediately rises from the curdled pile of blankets on the bed. It's the right size for now, but Uncle Rick says they're going to need a bigger one when he gets older. Dick hopes he doesn't get older too quickly, he likes this bed. "Is it time?"

Time for what? Ms. Finnegan nods, though, and Dad gets out of bed and goes to the door, just like that! If Mama were any less of a heavy sleeper, he'd be scolded for that. He should put on some outdoor clothes! Dick almost does it for her, but that job is for grown ups, and he definitely doesn't want to be one of those just yet. Anyway, what's going on? Why does Dad want to risk Mum's angry face? That's scary.

He didn't think Dad would notice his confusion too much, but apparently he projected a little loudly, his instincts taking a turn for the loud. "Oh, Dickie," he smiles as he pulls on his boots. "Do you want to come along?"

Dick frowns sleepily, but nods. He tries to yawn away his tired brain, but it stays firmly in place, so he crawls out of bed with it anyway, making sure to keep Zitka the toy safely tucked in his trouser pocket. Hopefully Mum won't catch them without proper clothes on.

Dad chuckles and ushers him out the door. When they get outside, it's dark, way past his bedtime. The stars shine clear and bright against the cloudless sky. It's the kind of sky that Zitka likes.

The section of the camp set out for the animals is quite big, covered in hay and with huge blue tarps hung over the top by tall poles, taller than Elinore. There are long strings of fairy lights attached to the unused rings in the tarp that twinkle above everyone in their blue-white light. Komala is lying on her side and breathing hard, like she's just done two big shows in a row. Camels don't get tired easily, Dick knows. It usually only takes one big show to get Mum and Dad, and Uncle Rick and Aunt Karla and John panting like that. John still doesn't do big shows often because of it.

The elephants are far off at the back. He can just barely see Nell from behind Elinore, though, let alone Zitka. He frowns in disappointment, just a little, because even though he came for Komala, he thinks Zitka would like to know what's going on too.

Speaking of which. "Dad?" _What's going on?_

"Right, Dickie," Dad looks serious, but Dick knows from his eyes that he's actually smiling. They have this sort of twinkle dancing in there. That's just how he smiles— it's pretty much the exact opposite of what Mum does. "I'm going to need you to stay over there." He points to the pile of hay bales that split the animals up. The horses and elephants are just passed it, but the tigers are kept somewhere else. Dick doesn't really know why. "This might be a little scary, but I'll ask you to come help in a while, and then you'll understand, okay?" And then he gets distracted with chattering to Komala. She doesn't look very well.

But Dick's brain is still a little sleepy, so he nods and goes over to the stacks of hay without really paying attention to what Dad said. He knows that he'll get to help in a bit, though. He wants to. He likes Komala. 

He does want to. But he's also tired, so he's half adrift in his dreams when Dad calls to him. The sun is rising on behind the trees that lie, sprawling at one end of the camp. The fairy lights are still twinkling away, but a lantern has been set down near Komala, at her rear end. "Dick! Come on, it's happening. Come help,"

Dick brightens instantly, shifting out of the jacket he vaguely remembers old drunk Kenneth putting over his shoulders and sitting between the knees of Ms. Finnegan and Dad. Old drunk Kenneth is petting Komala at her head. _Hey, Komala!_ He greets, but she must be too tired to answer other than grunting tiredly. He knows the feeling.

Dad is braced over Komala's hind legs, lifting one slightly out of the way of her other one, and Ms. Finnegan is petting her tummy, but otherwise nothing seems to be happening, other than Dad giving off this strange reassuring feeling. It's almost in the way he smells.

"W-what now?" He stumbles over his words— that's why the grown ups say he's got to start talking more. John says he doesn't have to talk if he doesn't want to, and Dick likes that idea a lot more, really.

Dad smiles at him, the twinkle in his eyes doing a warm waltz up and down his eyelids. "Why don't you come hold this leg out of the way, so that we can see?" Dick doesn't know what they're supposed to be seeing, but does it anyway. 

"Is Komala... sick?" He'd asked this before, but Ms. Finnegan always just laughed and said something about a new friend on the way, like always.

Dad chuckles, even though Komala's panting and grunting is getting worse, and surely this is a bit worrying? "No, no, Dick. This is something very special. Someone's about to be born."

Birth? Dick knows that that's where babies come from. Mum has told him before, and Dad talks about it in stories sometimes, but that's all. Is he seeing it happen right now...? Dick thinks he might be.

When it happens, it takes a lot longer than he first thought it would, and he doesn't really see how it came about at all, but he knows that it did. And then suddenly there's a whining, grunting, wet camel on the floor. Ms. Finnegan gathers it up from Dad and towels it dry quickly. It's very small. A lot smaller than Komala, and definitely smaller than him, but that's kind of to be expected. He knows that babies are smaller than children, like him.

Komala takes a moment to regain herself, before scooping up the little baby and huddling it into her side. It drowsily nibbles at her belly. She does the camel-smile that only camels can do, and then lays straight back down without another thought. She seems happy.

_Woah._

Dad laughs, and gathers Dick into his arms from where he's sitting a little further away from Komala. Ms. Finnegan and old drunk Kenneth have backed off too. He didn't notice.

"Yep, that's where you came from, kiddo." That's old drunk Kenneth.

Dick takes one look at Dad's messy hands, and decides right then and there. "Ew." His tongue pokes out for emphasis.

Dad laughs again. "Trust me, Dickie," he squeezes Dick around the middle in that warm way he does when he thinks about Mum. "It looked a lot more beautiful when it was you."

•••

_You're getting big now, Zitka,_ John says, except without his words. The grown ups say they should be practicing their words more, but John says they still have to perfect their Wooden Tongue first, or they might forget. Dick doesn't want to forget.

_Yes,_ he agrees, because she is. She's taller than John now.

_I am,_ Zitka confirms proudly, lifting her trunk and twirling it in the air like a trophy.

Elinore trumpets haughtily. _Not as big as me,_ she iterates, and she's right. Zitka isn't nearly as big as Elinore, or Nell, or even Raya, the shortest of the grown up elephants. Uncle Rick is almost as tall as her. But she's still very tall. Dick is still quite short. Secretly, he's a little jealous of Zitka.

_Still very big, though,_ he insists. _Taller than us._ He raises his hand as far as it will go, just to make the point. The tip of his longest finger reaches under her left cheek.

_Yes,_ she concedes, with pride. _She is going to be very big later on._ Being big is a very big deal in elephant culture, he has learned. Zitka is new to the family, so the others are a little protective of their heights, but she's still a part of it, so they're proud of how tall she's getting to be. It's a very complicated business.

_Do you think I'll be tall like that?_ He doesn't consciously ask it, but he can tell it's written in his body. He's still not very good at controlling what he wants to say with his body. It's like he has no filter, Mum says. Dad says he was the same at first, and it just takes practice.

Elinore seems to pick up on it, and John already knows, so they pretend not to notice. Zitka pays attention to everything, though, so she assures him that he will— of course he will. _Your Mami said just the other day that if you keep hanging around us, you'll turn into an elephant too!_ Dick supposes that is true.

_Nope!_ That's John. He wraps his arms around Dick, pulling him close the way Dad does when he tells one of Mum's stories (he's a better storyteller). _You're staying human, just like me!_ And then he laughs in a decidedly human way, and Dick does the same. Even though it's not quite laughter, the elephants trumpet rampantly. He would rather stay human, anyway. The food is better.

It's nice to have a family as big as this.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact! The second snippet was originally going to be the only thing I posted of this, but the rest just sort of wrote itself around it. I kind of left the whole "talking to animals" in the dust in favour of the familial relationships Dick has with the circus, which was why I included Nani and Harry and Ms. Finnegan and old drunk Kenneth as well. Eh, it was still fun.


End file.
